A Changeroom Prom
by LuckO'theIrish95
Summary: Kyman, one-shot. What prom might turn out like for our two unlikely lovers :) Rated T for the usual South Park reasoning.


**A.N.: So uh, here's a thing I started writing. It's how I think the Kyman would go down at prom (or at least one possibility.) I wasn't originally gonna upload this, but why the hell not? Not much to lose :P Hope ya enjoy!**

The lights were dim, the music, gentle and romantic. Couples swayed back and forth, each perfectly paired with the person they always dreamed of being with on this most special of nights. Lights moved around the gym rhythmically in time with everyone they surrounded. It was a night of gathering, laughter, and love. Prom.

But this prom was anything but special for one distressed, 17 year old, Jewish boy.

Kyle tugged nervously at the collar of his expensive, olive-green tux. His mother had paid out the asshole to get it for him, just so he could wear the uncomfortable thing all night inside of a humid, cramped gymnasium. In an attempt to straighten his tie, he only made it more crooked, and ended up ditching the effort.

_Look at them, _he thought as he frowned. Kyle eyed his peers one by one, each were blissfully unaware of his current state. Not that he really minded that, normally he would be happy for everybody having such a great time. Maybe he could afford to drop the envy for a bit and just kick back. He could be the slick, loner guy that every one wanted but nobody could have. He could be that guy.

Ehh, who was he kidding? He couldn't pass off for cool if it bit him in the balls. He was the straight-A, honour roll art geek. Just as there was a "Token Black," Kyle Broflovski was the token nerd. Not to mention a frugal, hot-tempered, morally-sound yet sexually confused Jew. And there wasn't a damned thing he could do to change. Granted, he already had the best friend anybody could ever ask for, why bother to change if his personality had already brought him so close to what he truly desired?

As if on cue, Kyle saw him. Stan Marsh, his best friend of forever, with his hair combed back and his tux in perfect order. Something erupted inside of the young man, as his stomach churned and his heart raced. Stan was the whole reason Kyle even bothered to come to prom. He was going to ask for a dance, they would walk to the dance floor together, and circle around and around in perfect harmony. And as they'd stare into each other's eyes, Kyle would finally muster the courage to tell Stan his deep secret.

Well… no. Not exactly.

Tonight, was Wendy Testaburger's night of romance. Her special night to take the love of her life-and Kyle's- to the centre of the gym, wrap him up in her slender arms, and tell Stan every single thing that Kyle had planned to say. It was about as clichéd as a love triangle in an after-school sitcom. Only, he was in love with a man, and the man he loved was in love with a woman. Fucking perfect.

Kyle shook his head slowly, and rose to his feet. Anger, loneliness and jealousy burned deep in his heart as he thought about it. Tonight was their night, Stan and Wendy's. And Kyle didn't have it in him to stick around and watch.

* * *

Eric Cartman stumbled clumsily into the double doors of the gym, donning a baby blue tuxedo, and gelled-back brunette locks. Never before had the chubby 17 year old cared to dress up this nicely, but it was prom night, and well, he was on a mission. Tonight was the night that Cartman would finally fess up his feelings towards a certain special someone, as long as Stan Marsh didn't get in the way, that is.

Stan was always in the way, being that obnoxious middle-man, or that insufferable knight in hippie-ish armor. At least in Cartman's mind, Stan was the one obstacle keeping him away from the only person he'd ever loved. And no, Cartman's love was not in fact the stunning raven-haired girl in the violet ball gown. He scanned the room, looking for someone else entirely.

Where was that dumb Jew, anyways? Cartman scratched his head, officially stumped. He would have shown up, wouldn't he? After all, it was fuckin' prom, and God knows that his big, fat bitch of a mother would force him to. He was probably wearing a really stupid, faggy looking outfit, as well, probably green because that was his favourite colour.

Cartman sighed and plopped down on a chair near the food table. Everything looked good -if not ridiculously lavish and over-the-top for a Podunk, mountain town like South Park- but the boy's appetite had somehow escaped and left him doubled over with a pain in his chest. Could this be nervousness? Luckily, the sound of running broke Cartman's train of thought before he admitted it to himself.

"Wait…" He watched as a tall, lanky boy with fiery, red hair ran across the floor and into the boy's changeroom. "Kahl!"

Cartman could barely contain his excitement, and he barreled after him, almost barging through Stan and Wendy's slow dance.

* * *

Once Kyle found solitude in the change room, he slammed his fist into a locker as hard as he possibly could. Shocked at his own display of anger, the Jew calmed down slightly and managed to convince himself that it was just the "Jersey" in him. He wasn't that jealous of Wendy, was he? After all, he knew they were going to prom together, he knew all along. Stan was beside himself with happiness because for once in his life, he had the nerve to ask his dream girl, and she liked him enough to say yes. It was mutual, 100%, they were going together, and Kyle was left alone to stew in his repressed feelings. Even so, Kyle surely wished them all the best. Hell, he wanted them to get married and have twelve children and grow old together, and...

Who the fuck was he trying to kid?

Tears streamed from the boy's face and hit the floor, and he wiped vigorously as his puffy cheeks. Why did he have to be in love with someone who never felt the same way? It was always so obvious that Stan's feelings were nothing more than platonic, yet something inside of Kyle prodded him to keep feeling this way and hiding it for so long, like if he hoped for long enough, it would happen. Unfortunately, that possibility was looking grim, and the truth still hit him hard like multiple punches to the gut each time he inwardly admitted it.

Suddenly, his muse was broken by the sound of the door opening. Kyle swiftly turned away, as to avoid any awkward encounters. This intrusion, however, was not perpetrated your typical, indifferent high school senior.

"Hey, Kahl."

Kyle cringed at the all-too familiar accent. Now he had even more reason to be worried.

"What do you want, Cartman?"

"Just came to see what's up. Not many guys our age run like little pussies into the bathroom during the Prom King and Queen's dance. Honestly, I can't blame you. All this romance bullcrap was starting to make me sick."

"I'm not in the fucking mood for this, fatass."

Cartman advanced on Kyle, placing a hand on his shoulder and licking his lips. Though it might have been Kyle's imagination, he swore that the heavier boy scanned him up and down briefly. "Geez, Jew. Temper, temper."

Kyle didn't take the comment too kindly, a sigh of exasperation erupting from his tight lips. "I said I'm not in the mood. Now, fuck off." He ripped away from the bigger boy and stalked towards the exit of the changeroom. Cartman instinctively followed.

"What's the matter, Kahl? Why so cold?" Cartman blinked innocently, but Kyle knew better. There was no way he was going to let this fatass manipulate him into saying why he'd been hiding out in here.

"Don't you fucking get it, you fat piece of shit? I don't want to be near you. I want you to leave me the hell alone, preferably forever."

Cartman was now latched onto both of the smaller boy's shoulders in an attempt at having a sincere moment. This time was different than every other time, and only he knew the reason. All that needed to happen now, was for Kyle to calm down a bit.

"It's about Stan and Weendy, isn't it?" Cartman stared into his eyes, but Kyle tried to avert his gaze, his face becoming progressively redder as he kept his secrets hidden. And how in God's name did he know this was about Stan and Wendy? Nevertheless, Kyle was determined not to let his outer shell crack.

"Why should you care? You've never cared about me before, so why now all of the sudden?"

The larger boy sighed, rolled his eyes, and moved closer so that Kyle's back shoved up against the lockers. There was little space between them, and Kyle tried to squirm free in a half-assed effort. He couldn't understand his lack of force, after all, he was stronger than the fat-boy, but something in his subconscious didn't want him to leave just yet.

"Kahl, please. I do care. You are just too much of a dumb, closed-minded, fucking Jew to realize that."

Cartman's grip tightened, his hold secure. Kyle stood still, as if moving would cause him to wake up from this obvious dream, and he only hoped that this was fucking going somewhere. "You've got to be kidding me."

"Oh, so you think this is a joke, Kahl? Do you?" Cartman's features were warped into a new, different side of passion that Kyle had never seen before. He never knew his elementary school rival could even emote in such a way. It was almost as if he looked… sincere? It was surrealism at its finest.

"I'm not entirely sure." Kyle's voice trailed off, drowned by his and Cartman's breathing getting heavier and heavier.

In the middle of it all, Cartman managed to continue. "It's not. I care about yew, I-I swear, Kahl." His face flushed, and a bead of sweat ran down his forehead. Kyle's senses were beginning to go into overdrive, like his brain could no longer register anything that was transpiring. It had to be a trick, there was no way…

"You're a fucking liar, Cartman."

Cartman's face immediately flushed, his heart picking up speed. How could that dirty Jew act so difficult? Standing there in his faggy little tux, using his chirpy, little accusing voice.

Despite this, Cartman couldn't believe how different Kyle looked without his hat, his hair a mess, but a damn beautiful mess. And those eyes, even when they were screwed into a skeptical look, still managed to burn a bright and alluring hazel. Cartman leaned in dangerously close then, desperately wanting to crush his mouth against those soft, pink lips, and have his way with his little Jew-boy. Cartman had nearly had enough of playing around. His future actions were boiling down to two possibilities at that point: hit Kyle, or kiss him. Instead, he wrenched on Kyle's body and shook him violently, his massive weight pressing down on Kyle's limbs. The Jew winced at the force.

"No, I'm NOT. You just don't understand at all." Cartman took a deep breath, hoping that the deep blush on his face wasn't noticeable. Then, he spoke, after a long while of the skinnier boy eying him with confusion. "I-I fucking LOVE you, Kahl."

Kyle blinked once. Then twice. Then he slowly began to comprehend the situation. Did Cartman just say, "I love you?" He must have been dreaming, though the burning sensation in his face felt all too real. What were these feelings? Kyle mentally stabbed himself for it, but there was an unrelenting ache that grew bigger in his chest, and his stomach fluttered quite literally the same way it had when he saw Stan earlier.

And Lord knows there weren't too many ways to reply to a profession of love, especially from one as two-faced, manipulative and psychotic as Eric fucking Cartman. Stuttering and sappiness didn't come to mind as a suitable rebut. He couldn't even bring himself to give a smart-ass comment like he usually would in any other instance. Kyle only hoped he could do this moment justice. He couldn't bring himself to believe it, how could he?

"Do you really expect me to believe that, Eric?"

_Wait, Eric?_ Kyle sighed. Saying Cartman's first name felt foreign to the Jew, but for whatever reason, it slipped out and he said it anyways. This night just kept getting _better and better, _didn't it?

Cartman stared in awe at his rival. "W-w-wait. Say that again."

Kyle cocked an eyebrow in confusion. "Say what? Do you really expect me t—?"

"No! No, my name, say my name again."

"Eri-mmph!?"

And that's all it took.

All at once, Cartman crushed his cracked lips up against Kyle's soft ones, breaking into his mouth with an intruding tongue and causing the smaller boy to moan in surprise. Hands flailed as they tried to find places to rest, and Cartman found his calling underneath Kyle's tux and upon his bare skin. Kyle gasped into Cartman's mouth at the unexpected contact.

The kiss deepened, both boys needing air, but neither of them wanting to part. It was like Kyle had forgotten all about Stan and Wendy and prom altogether. Cartman lapped frantically at Kyle's mouth, grunting shakily, hunger washing over the large boy as he craved the sweet taste of a sexy, kosher snack. Kyle nearly gagged from the force of Cartman's kissing, but managed to fight back with his own fiery passion. He even enjoyed it a lot more than he thought, despite his better judgment and the tiny voice in his head screaming at him to stop.

They finally broke apart, after battling tongues and braving the risk of someone walking in on them, and both boys were left gasping and heaving for breath. Not to mention, their faces were glowing with acute embarrassment. Cartman looked as though he'd made a grave mistake, as he looked away shyly for the first time in his short life. Dark brown eyes darted back and forth from the floor to his Jewish rival.

Kyle was rendered utterly speechless, his face aghast.

"Well, fuck me sideways, Kahl. You feel the same way, don't you?"

"Shh. Whatever. It doesn't- I mean- I don't really-" Kyle stuttered, wanting to say more, wanting to understand more, suddenly wanting this to all be as real as it felt. His faced flushed an even deeper red at the lack of words.

"I know, I'm not Stan-"

"Stan has nothing to do with this, fatass." Kyle lied.

Cartman rolled his eyes, cleared his throat and continued. "But who needs him anyways? He's not as good as I am, Kahl, and I seriously can't believe it took you this long to realize that. You could still have that prom dance you always wanted, you know."

"What do you mean by, 'the dance I always wanted?'" Kyle cocked an eyebrow.

Cartman pointed to the exit. "The music. Can't you hear it?"

"Yeah."

"So let's dance. Right here."

Kyle froze, but Cartman was quick, and took his one hand, resting the other on his slender hip. "Now, I know Jews don't have rhythm, but you're going to have to follow my lead as best as you can."

"This isn't exactly the dance I had in mind." The Jew scowled menacingly at his Anti-Semitic counterpart, but instantly found comfort in interlocking fingers with him. It made no fucking sense, but not many things made sense in Kyle's life anymore, so he just decided to handle it as best he could.

Of course he tripped over his own feet a few times, each blunder causing Cartman's laughter to bubble up, but overall, it felt pretty good. Kyle felt needed.

As they swayed back and forth to the tune of some random, slow pop song, Cartman instinctively, and somewhat forcefully, pulled Kyle closer to him. His bravado was followed up by Kyle's shyness, quite an alien emotion for the young man. They continued to dance until the song faded out. The boys wouldn't admit their disappointment to one another about the song ending.

"That was, uh—"

"Pretty fucking sweet." Cartman finished, sporting a genuine smile.

Kyle returned the favour with a crooked grin of his own. It had been a while since they shared a moment like this. And never before had it been so intimate and felt so incredible. Kyle couldn't comprehend this, nor could he see himself actually agreeing with this decision in the future, but for now, he had Cartman. Cartman had him. And long after the music had stopped, they continued to sway in each other's arms.

Prom night actually turned out to be pretty goddamned special after all.


End file.
